Score one for the dead woman. I sure as heck didn’t have anyone like that in my life. Although, before this moment, I would have sworn my life was too boring to ever need someone running to my rescue. “And what makes you that guy?”
“I have the skills to help her, courtesy of the United States government. The best training a man can have.”
“You’re a soldier?”
“Not a soldier, a sailor,” he corrected. “And even better than that, a SEAL.”
“A Navy SEAL, huh?” I repeated on an exhale.
“I retired a year ago, but once a SEAL, always a SEAL,” he confirmed.
I’d done a lot of research into SEALs for my books and knew it wasn’t rare for men to claim the distinction even if they hadn’t earned the right to do so. If he was telling the truth, I could almost understand why Serena reached out to him for help if she felt like her trouble was bad enough the police couldn’t help. But I needed more information. I wasn’t just going to blindly believe what he was telling me. “What’s your name?”
“Blaine West.”
“Where did you go through BUD/S?”
“Coronado.”
“What class were you?”
“Class 275.”
“Who was your swim buddy?”
“Brody Slater,” he bit out before asking a question of his own. “Are we both going to get a chance to play twenty questions?”
I felt the heat creeping up my neck and across my cheeks, but I refused to be embarrassed. If anyone had a reason to feel uncomfortable here, it was him—not me. “No, I figure you probably did some checking into my background before you broke into my home. It’s only fair I get to ask the questions now.”
The muscles in his forearms bunched as he tightened his fists before opening his hands to rub them over his face. “What else do you want to know?”
So far, he’d answered my questions swiftly and decisively, without hesitation. He wasn’t volunteering to show me a bogus tattoo of a trident that would prove he was a SEAL or anything stupid like that. It held the ring of truth and the name he offered rang a bell. “Your swim buddy? Is he who I think he is?”
“Depends on who you think he is, but probably,” he muttered.
When the story about the younger Slater brother joining the Navy hit the newspapers, I’d been intrigued. I couldn’t help but wonder what motivated a guy with his kind of wealth to become a hacker in the first place. It was so far outside my experience, I couldn’t even begin to understand putting your freedom at risk like that. But I respected his decision to fight for his country instead of going to jail. The articles made him out to be a bit of a wild card. It wasn’t too difficult to imagine someone like him would want to be a SEAL. And if Blaine was lying, it was incredibly stupid to use the name of someone like Brody Slater as his fictitious swim buddy.
“This is for real, isn’t it? Serena asking you for help. The news article. All of it,” I breathed out.
“I wish like hell I could tell you it wasn’t, but I can’t. The situation is all too real.”
I started to tremble as it all sank in. A woman I’d met a few short months ago died this morning—was murdered and the police thought she was me. They had been here asking questions and were probably digging into my life at this very moment, trying to figure out why someone had wanted me dead. At that thought, I jumped out of my seat and ran to the calendar hanging on the wall. I frantically turned the page to the current month and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the date circled in red was still a week away. “Oh, thank God,” I sighed.
“You okay?” Blaine asked from behind me. He was standing so close, I could feel his body heat against my back.
I took a small step closer to the wall before turning, hoping to put a little space between us. “I wouldn’t say I’m okay, but at least I don’t have to worry about my parents freaking out because the police called them to tell them I was dead.”
“Damn, I should have thought of that. Why isn’t it a concern?”
I flicked my thumb over my shoulder, pointing at the calendar. “They’re in the Mediterranean on a chartered yacht and won’t be in port for another week. When I talked to them before I got to the cabin, they gave me their itinerary so I wouldn’t worry. Usually they call me every week. I probably have a voicemail from them from a few days ago, but I won’t be able to call them back until they’re back on land again.”
“Neither will the police,” he murmured. “And I highly doubt they’d tell them you’re dead without positive identification. They’re more likely to ask them to come back to help with the investigation. Does anybody know you came back early?”
“No.”
I could practically see the wheels turning in his head while he stared at me in silence. He nodded his head, seeming to come to a decision before he spoke again. “I don’t like the idea of you staying here until I have more information about why Serena was in danger. Your house isn’t a secure location and it’s possible her actions might have put you in the crosshairs.”
I glanced at the phone charger lying on my kitchen counter. “I’ll call the police. I’m sure they will want to know about the mix-up. If they think I’m in danger, then I’ll do whatever they tell me I need to do to stay safe.”
“I can understand why you might think that’s the best decision to make here, but I want you to consider another option. Give me a little bit of time—the four days you have before anyone expects you to be back—and let me dig into the situation before you go to the police. I’ll take you somewhere secure. Keep you safe from harm,” he promised.
“Do you really think I’m in danger?”
“Until I saw you walk through that door, I thought you were dead. I didn’t know they’d killed Serena. Hell, I don’t even know who they are,” he muttered. “I might not know much about the situation right now, but it isn’t a stretch of the imagination to think it’s possible you might be in danger. And if you are, the safest place to be is with me.”
For a guy willing to admit he didn’t know what was going on, he certainly seemed confident in his own abilities. “I don’t even know you! Why in the world would I trust you with my safety instead of the police?”
“I haven’t seen Serena in years, but the girl I knew wasn’t dumb. There had to have been a reason she didn’t go to the police. Until I know why she made the decision to come to me for help instead, I have to operate under the assumption they might be involved.”
When I woke up this morning, I was worried my life was too boring and I needed to do something to spice it up a little. Now, I was dealing with a stolen identity, a possible conspiracy theory, and a murder—not to mention, an incredibly hot ex-Navy SEAL. I needed to be careful what I wished for in the future. I was in way over my head.
First things first, no matter what I decided to do, I needed to charge my phone. I didn’t have a landline and I was extremely aware that I had no way of calling for help without my cell. My purse was on the floor by the fridge where it must have fallen when I was struggling against Blaine earlier. I picked it up and got my phone out, plugging it into the charger and wishing like heck, once again, I’d remembered to bring it along with me to the cabin. If I had, I would have been able to answer it when the police most likely had called today. Instead, if they had called, it went straight to voicemail and just reinforced the idea that I was the victim of the murder they were investigating.
“There’s no way I’m going somewhere with you unless I speak to someone who can confirm you are who you say you are first,” I said.
“Seems fair to me,” he agreed, turning his phone so I could see the screen as he pulled up his contacts list and pressed the call button for someone listed as “Hack”.
Putting it on speakerphone, I listened as the phone rang once before a deep voice came through the line. “Any sign of Serena?”
The flare of pain in Blaine’s eyes was unmistakable. “No, and I don’t think I’m going to find one since Delia Sinclair is sta
nding in front of me right now.”
“Fucking A, man. Are you shitting me?”
“Speakerphone,” Blaine warned, pressing his lips together in annoyance.
“Sorry.”
There was an awkward silence and if I weren’t listening, I knew they would both have a lot more to say to each other. Hearing the man ask about Serena eased some of my concern, but not all of it. “This is Delia Sinclair. Can you describe Blaine West to me?”
There was silence on the other end of the line. “Go ahead and answer her questions,” Blaine said, giving the okay.
“Six-foot-three, two-hundred-twenty-five pounds, dark hair, blue eyes, muscular build.”
The description he provided was spot on, but I needed more information. “How do you know him?”
“We served in the Navy together, ma’am.”
His answer and the nickname helped me connect the dots in my brain. “Is this Brody Slater?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he confirmed.
I glanced down at the screen and saw the Facetime button was an available option. I pressed it and waited for Brody to do the same on his end. It didn’t take long before I saw a familiar face staring back at me.
“When did you meet each other?”
“First Phase training to become a SEAL,” he replied.
“Thank you,” I whispered, nodding my acceptance of this conversation as confirmation that Blaine really was who he said he was.
I zoned out as they talked for a couple more minutes and was startled when I felt Blaine’s hand wrap around my arm. When I looked up, his phone was nowhere in sight and he was looking at me in concern, his brow furrowed. “Anything else I can do to make you feel more comfortable about leaving with me?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, there is. I’d be insane to go anywhere with you when the police think I’m dead and you’re the only person who knows they’re wrong, except for your friend. If I’m going to give you some time to do your thing before I contact the police, then I need to call my best friend to let her know I’m with you,” I insisted.
The approving smile he flashed me made my heart flutter. “That’s a smart move on your part.”
“And I don’t just mean your name. Give me your driver’s license,” I ordered, holding my hand out.
It calmed my nerves further when he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed me his license without arguing. Luckily, my phone had charged just enough that it had powered back on. I took a picture of it and then snapped a quick picture of him since he looked different now. His hair was shorter and his face a little fuller—he looked healthier now.
I tapped out a quick message to Mila, letting her know I was okay and that I needed her to call me as soon as she was available. Then I forwarded both pictures to her, knowing darn well it would light a fire under her and get her to call me even faster than usual. She’d be way too excited by the fact that I’d met a hot guy to wait a moment longer than necessary to get the details from me. Sending her a picture of Blaine was like waving a red flag in front of a bull.
After that was done, I pulled the internet up and searched for the story Blaine had showed me on his phone earlier. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to really find it or not. If it was there, then this was all real. If not, it was an elaborate ruse—one which made no sense at all. As I waited for the results of the search, I debated internally which situation would be preferable. Then it no longer mattered. Several stories popped up.
“I’m not lying,” he said quietly, looking over my shoulder at my phone.
“I needed to be sure,” I explained.
“Have you worked through your doubts?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against the tears that had sprung unexpectedly at the gentleness of his tone. “Yes.”
His hands felt warm and strong as he rested them on my shoulders and lightly squeezed. “Once you walk out that door with me, you need to leave all your uncertainty about me behind. Trusting me is imperative if I’m going to be able to keep you safe. Can you do that?”
“I guess we’ll find out,” I sighed. My phone rang as his hands tightened in response to what I guessed was my less than satisfactory answer. Glancing down at my phone, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was Mila calling me back. “I need to take this.”
“We need to be careful about how many people know about your situation,” he warned.
“It’s my best friend calling me back,” I explained. “And I’m not asking for your permission to talk to her. I’m telling you I’m taking this call.”
“Feisty,” he murmured before backing away.
“What in the world is going on with you?” Mila screeched in my ear as soon as the call connected. “Did you meet a mountain man hottie?”
“Not exactly,” I answered. I told her about everything I’d learned since I got home, the words tumbling out quickly as she remained silent.
“Holy crap,” she finally muttered. “Please tell me it’s April Fools today. Or that your quirky sense of humor has run wild and this is all the plot of your next book.”
“I wish I could, but I can’t,” I sighed just as Blaine walked back into the kitchen.
“We need to get going,” he murmured into my ear.
“Is that him?” I barely registered Mila’s question as shivers made their way up my spine from the feel of Blaine’s hot breath against my skin. “Damn, he sounds as hot as he looks. Maybe you can squeeze in some time to clean out the cobwebs in your vagina while he’s protecting you from the bad guys.”
I couldn’t hold back the snort of laughter her words caused. Unfortunately, she hadn’t spoken quietly enough and Blaine’s chuckle let me know he’d heard as well.
“Aren’t you supposed to be worried about my safety?” I chided.
“I’m a woman. I’m good at multi-tasking.” Her flippant response made me giggle.
“Love you,” I whispered.
“Love you right back,” she replied. “Let Mr. Hottie know if anything bad happens to you, he’s going to answer to me.”
“Will do.”
“And if things get too crazy, have him bring you down here to me. We’ll take the boat out and lose ourselves on the water for as long as it takes for this thing to blow over,” she offered.
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed before hanging up, feeling less like I’d fallen down the rabbit hole after talking to Mila. It still felt like my entire world was spinning out of control, but the familiarity of hearing my best friend’s voice was exactly what I needed to face what came next.
Chapter 5
Blaine
“Go pack a bag with whatever you’ll need for the next few days,” I instructed, pushing down my guilt at the shattered look in Delia’s eyes and forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. She was a bigger distraction than she should be for a woman I’d just met, but it was difficult to ignore my reaction to her. Sending her up to her room to pack a bag served a double purpose since it also gave me some much-needed breathing room. Us, actually, since she wasn’t immune to me either.
I’d caught the female awareness in her gaze a few times when she looked at me and I’d seen how my touch affected her. When I’d placed my hands on her shoulder, I had done so in an effort to offer comfort without any sexual intent. Then she’d shivered under my touch and it made me wonder how she’d react if I kissed her. If her phone hadn’t rung right then, I wasn’t positive I’d have been able to resist the temptation she presented. I’d never met a woman who had the ability to test my self-control the way she seemed to be able to do.
I knew it was wrong to let my thoughts wander in that direction, but I couldn’t stop myself from imagining Delia moving beneath me as I thrust into her wet heat. Luckily, she was distracted by her phone call and I was able to get my cock under control by the time I walked back into the kitchen. She was already freaked out enough. The last thing I needed to do was make her think I was a sick pervert who wanted inside her panties—even thoug
h that’s exactly what I felt like right about now.
I wasn’t an active SEAL anymore, but I never forgot my training.
The mission.
The team.
The individual.
The mission always came first, followed by the team supporting the mission, and then the individuals who comprised the team. Finding out what happened to Serena was my mission, even if it was an unsanctioned one. I didn’t answer to the Navy anymore, but I still answered to my own conscience.
Serena was part of my past, but she was still part of my team. Our connection hadn’t ended just because our relationship had and we had lost touch. Only now, it looked like she had pulled Delia onto my team as well, if only while I cleaned up this mess, which meant I couldn’t afford to think of Delia as an individual—or a highly desirable woman.
It had been a long time since I’d been involved with a woman, but that never interfered with my ability to focus in the past. There were times when we were overseas when I’d gone without sex for a helluva lot longer than it had been for me now. It hadn’t gotten to me back then and I couldn’t let it get to me now. Delia was just another part of this mission.
Soft footfalls on the carpeted stairs had me looking up. A couple moments later, Delia walked back into the kitchen. Even rumpled from our earlier struggle, she managed to look sexy. Knowing she could pack a bag faster than some sailors made her even hotter. Most of the women I knew would have taken at least an hour to pick out what to pack and then they would have spent the next thirty minutes or so fixing their hair and makeup because they wouldn’t want a man to see them as anything less than perfectly put together. Knowing what I saw was what I got with Delia made her all the more attractive. Shaking my head, I shoved the thought aside and walked to the sliding glass door to retrieve my go bag.
“We’ll need to take your car. If the police come back and find it in the garage when it wasn’t here earlier, it would raise red flags,” I explained as I moved to the front windows and glanced outside, making sure there wasn’t anyone who would see us leave.
Identity Crisis Page 4
